


"I... I want a hug."

by FearfulKitten



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [15]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batman Bingo, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Caring Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Bruce Wayne, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), batman bingo 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 08:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearfulKitten/pseuds/FearfulKitten
Summary: Dick hugged his knees, shivering, so cold that his teeth were chattering with his shakes.Falling off of a bridge and into a river is never fun. Especially during winter. More so if you’ve been recently exposed to Scarecrow’s venom.It’s even more annoying when your own mentor is the one pushing you off said bridge, but whatever.Batman knew what he was doing back there.It was all under control.Sort of.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852759
Comments: 8
Kudos: 244





	"I... I want a hug."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This work was requested by an anon on tumblr.  
> Beta'd by @TruthfulDaydreamer, who is not only a great beta, but a great writer too, so don't hesitated to check out their fics! Thank you for the help friend <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

Dick hugged his knees, shivering, so cold that his teeth were chattering with his shakes. He tried to steady his breathing to no avail, telling himself that he’s safe now, he was in the cave, there’s a heavy, fluffy towel around his body and he has no reason to be scared anymore, but he keeps exhaling short, fearful, shallow breaths. Dick groans in frustration, still not being able to fully regain a calm state.

Falling off of a bridge and into a river is never fun. Especially during winter. More so if you’ve been recently exposed to Scarecrow’s venom.

It’s even more annoying when your own mentor is the one pushing you off said bridge, but whatever.

Batman knew what he was doing back there.

It was all under control.

Sort of.

He sniffled and wrapped himself tighter in the towel. His shoulder feels like it might have been dislocated by the fall, but the adrenaline in his blood kept him from fully feeling the extensions of his injuries. And right now, he just felt so cold. So,  _ so _ cold.

So cold.

So scared.

Like a child.

Like the nine year old who had just watched his parents fall to their deaths.

But he’s not nine anymore. He’s in his twenties and had just seen his parents fall to their deaths a second time, in a Scarecrow induced hallucination. And if that wasn’t enough, this time around Damian was the one cutting the ropes, laughing as they called for help, as their bodies hit the ground. Help Dick wasn’t able to give the first time around, and wasn’t able to provide in his hallucination either. Damian’s distorted laugh played over and over in his mind.

_ “What is it, Grayson? You’ve known that this is who I was all along.” _ It echoed in his mind  _ “It is not my fault you have been so willingly blind!” _ He pointed and laughed, gums bleeding and eyes entirely black, corrupted, slicing his katana through body, after body, after body, after body.

Dick squeezes his eyes shut, vigorously shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts. They gave him an awful feeling, and he isn’t sure if the metallic taste in his mouth is from something bleeding or from his disgust and... fear.

Dick had had to ask Damian to stay away for tonight. He hated doing it, hated that he’d had to ask the kid to stay away, but right now, he can’t look him in the eye, even though he knows that it wasn’t real, even though he’s sure that Damian is a good person, that Damian will never go back to his old ways, that Damian isn’t responsible for his parents’ death. But Dick’s mind was still far from rational, and it made looking at Damian awfully painful.

And the toxin was only in effect for five minutes. He wonders what he would have seen, what would have happened to him if Batman hadn’t...

Well. That doesn’t exactly paint him in a kind light, but if Batman hadn’t thrown him off that bridge and into the river, who knows what else Dick’s mind would have forced him through?

And for some  _ stupid _ reason, Crane had decided to experiment with the formula so that his hallucinogens didn’t spike up the adrenaline in a person’s blood. In fact; this one tried it’s damndest to block all of it. So it’d left Dick in a sluggish, slow state, where his mind was filled with ugly visions and his heart barely beating. It was almost more incapacitating than the older ones. Nightwing couldn’t move properly, and therefore, couldn’t fight. B had thought that if he managed to get enough of an adrenaline spike in Dick’s blood, increase his heart rate enough, that the man would be able to fight the hallucinations off.

He was right, of course, but that doesn’t mean his method had been pleasant.

Scarecrow’s mistake had been bringing the fight to one of Gotham’s many bridges, because in the middle of the battle, Batman kicked Nightwing in the chest, sending him flying backwards off the bridge and into the water. The fall had done half of the work, and the second his body hit the cold water, he was sane again. It wasn’t comfortable. Nightwing wasn’t able to go back to the fight. But he wasn’t hallucinating anymore, so that’d been something.

Right now, Dick was struggling to see the bright side in this whole situation and is even wondering; why didn’t they kill, anyways? He’d kill Scarecrow if the bastard was standing in front of him right now.

He hears footsteps, and instinctively curls in on himself further. Any other day, Dick would have sat up straight, but right now his fear is too large and looming, too great to ignore. Black boots stopped in front of him. Bruce had the cowl off, hanging behind him, but he’s still in the suit, cape and all. He crouches down in front of Dick.

“Are you alright?” He asks, voice soft. Dick can’t look at him, so chooses to stare at the floor between his feet instead.

“G-Getti-ing the-there.” He stutters, teeth still chattering loudly.

Bruce gazes at him for a long second.

“I... brought you a change of clothes.” He says. Dick looks up slightly, at the man’s hands.

“I-I d-don’t wa-wanna ch-ch...” He sighs, annoyed by his stutter. “Ch-Change.”

“You have to.” Bruce tries to be gentle “Your suit is wet and your body temperature is dangerously low already.” Dick looks up at the man and just glares. ‘ _ Just who’s fault is that, huh?’ _ He doesn’t say anything, knowing that the other man is right. He reaches out and takes the soft sweatpants and sweater.

“L-Look a-away, p-ple-please.”

Bruce turns around, and waits for Dick to change. The process takes a little longer than usual, considering that his fingers ache from the cold and his entire body is still shaking viciously, trying to warm itself up. When he turns around, Bruce hands him a dry towel, just as soft and fluffy as the previous one, moving slowly so as not to startle his son.

“Th-Thanks.” Dick wraps himself up in it again, looking up at the man. The fact that he still had to look up to talk to Bruce made him feel a little annoyed. Jason was taller than their father. This wasn’t fair, he was older after all. Dick rubs his shoulder under the towel, and the other’s eyes catch the movement.

“Let me see.” Bruce says, reaching for the towel. Dick winces. He should’ve known better than to show any discomfort in front of the Bat.

“I’m f-fine, th-” He tries to argue, but the other cuts him off.

“Let me see your shoulder, Dick.” His expression is unreadable, as hard as stone. Dick sighs and pushes the towel off of his shoulder, turning around.

Without a word and without a warning, Bruce grabs him by the arm and the back of the neck, forcing it back into its place. Dick screams, loud enough that it echoes through the cave, a string of curses in several languages falling out of his mouth soon after.

“Language.” Bruce says.

“You...” Dick’s stutter seemed to be mostly gone now, but he’s out of breath “You just  _ fucking _ ...” He sighs, rubbing his shoulder, cursing more in Farsi “That hurts. And you don’t speak half of the languages I just cursed in anyways.”

Bruce frowns.

“Any more injuries?”

“No.” Dick answers, hugging himself again.

“Are you su-”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure!” He shoots back angrily “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Jesus. Even Damian is more delicate than you.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Bruce swallows “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to help.”

“You never  _ mean _ to hurt me, but you do it all the same.” He answers, looking at the floor “A heads up would be cool sometimes, y’know? Let me brace myself and shit...” His voice trails off, getting lower and lower as he speaks.

An awful silence takes over the cave. The small space between them seems bigger than it really is, and smaller than they want it to be. Dick feels tears welling up in his eyes. He shuts them harshly.

“I’m sorry.” The man says again “I’ll... Try to warn you next time.” Dick nods, and Bruce clears his throat “About the bridge too. I should’ve warned you so you could at least try to fall a little better.”

“Or,” Dick starts “You could’ve used the adrenaline shots Tim carries in his belt.”

Bruce blinks.

“Tim... carries adrenaline shots?”

“Yes.” Dick smiles at the ground “Too many hearts stopped during that drug epidemic a few years back. Tim started carrying them after that, just in case.”

“Huh.” He smiles too “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. I figured.” Dick sounded more amused than mad. Bruce allowed himself to huff out a tiny laugh “But, um, thanks.” Dick says, shyly “It wasn’t the kindest method, but it worked. The hallucinations...” He shivered “Worse than ever.”

Bruce offers him a small nod.

“What was it?” He asks.

“Oh.” Dick looks down again “My parents at first. But... the truly awful part was...” He bites his lips harshly, trying to stop the flow of tears that would inevitably come “Damian.”

“Dying?” His voice is gentle as it can get; that’s not much, but he’s clearly putting in an effort.

“No.” Dick swallows “Killing.” He rubs away the tears “Telling me that... it was his nature. That I was too blind to see it, but that it didn’t change anything. That I... I didn’t change anything.” He sobs, placing a hand over his mouth, trying to stop the sounds “I just... I’ve failed so many people Bruce. I can’t... I can’t fail him too. Not him.”

“Dick, you didn’t fail anyone.” He says, putting his hand on Dick’s uninjured shoulder “Especially not Damian.”

The young man didn’t exactly feel like that, but he really didn’t feel like talking about this right now, especially considering the fragile state he’s in. He doesn’t want to say something he’ll regret later on, so Dick nods and tries to hold in his tears.

“My cape...” Bruce starts “My cape still has the heaters in it. If you want to wear it, it may warm you up faster.”

“I don’t... want the cape.” Dick murmurs “I... I want a hug. Please.”

Bruce wastes no time, putting his arms around Dick’s body and pulling him for a tight hug. He throws his cape around Dick all the same, heaters already activated. It feels heavy and warm around Dick’s body, and he buries his face in his father’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t hold back the tears anymore, so he cries silently against Batman's suit. Bruce has a strong hand on his back and a gentle one on his hair, allowing his son to sob for as long as he needs to.

Bruce is reminded of the old days, back when it was just the two of them, when Dick was happier and life was simpler. Robin would hide himself inside of Batman’s cape during cold nights, and when he fell asleep during a boring patrol, Bruce would wrap the boy up in it before bringing him home, where Alfred would tuck Dick in his bed as the Bat went out again.

Right now, Dick is no longer the small child he once was. He still wasn’t as big as Bruce; and he thanked God that his son was an acrobat, not a sturdy fighter like him. He liked the fact that he could still hug Dick with ease and hide him under his cape if he needed to cry. If he had even the smallest bit more muscle than what he had now, that would make the task much more difficult. Still, he was a man now, there was no denying that. But feeling him so cold against his touch, body shaking with every sob that escaped his son’s lips, the man knew that he would never be too old for Bruce to think of him as his boy.

Deep down, Bruce still saw him as that colorful child jumping around and kicking criminals as he swung from chandeliers, laughing, drawing out enough attention that Batman was nothing but a shadow next to him. And as he felt his boy’s colors weakening tonight, he wanted to do all he could to bring that light-hearted laughter back to his face again.

Bruce hugged him harder, and buried his face in Dick’s raven hair.

“I’m here, son. I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr, @fearfulkittenwrites, or @fearful-kitten01. Feel free to reach out for any reason, whether if it is to chat or requests!  
> Thank you once again, @TruthfulDaydreamer, for all the help you've given me <3  
> Stay safe and healthy out there friends. Ily <3


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